Shouldn't Have Happened
by ZJeM
Summary: But it did, and now Jean's left to deal with the thoughts nagging him about THAT. Will he be able to get his peace of mind back?


**Disclaimer: **I don't own the _Shingeki no Kyojin_, Isayama Hajime-sama does.

**Suggested listening: **Eve 6 - _Think Twice_ (for the feeling)

**WARNING:** Pensive!Jean & Desireful!Mikasa - don't like, don't read

**Takes place somewhere in between episodes 15 and 16. Because I wanted to write some completely improbable action in between.**

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_**Shouldn't Have Happened**_

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He was unusually quiet that day, Connie noticed, munching on his roll that he managed to (for then) keep out of Sasha's claws. The sounds of people eating, talking and laughing didn't include his friend's voice, which was a pretty rare occurance. Was it due to that day's squad selection? Jean sat in front of him on the dining table, his plate still full in spite of the amount of time that had already passed since the breakfast had started. His friend's shirt was all crumpled and the strips of his uniform were in a mess. So not like him.

"Oi, man! What's the matter?" Connie asked, bespiting the wooden surface with a rain of crumbles and cheese. Not a single sound from Jean, not even a growl for making a mess. Connie frowned. He followed his friend's absend-minded gaze and found himself looking at the back of Mikasa Ackerman, sitting with Armin on the table distant from theirs. A mischevious smirk spread across his face. At least he had something to distract himself from the choice he too hadn't made by then... "So that's who's in your mind, huh?" He leaned forward to grab one of Jean's baker's goods. "Just go ahead, abduct her and take her to some dark, damp place where-" the chuckle was caught in his throat when it got to him that not only Jean hadn't killed him for taking his food, he seemed not to have noticed at all. He patted on the other's shoulder carefully, expecting to have to run away from Jean's fists in a moment later. Nothing happened. "Jean, what's the matter..?" he asked quietly, returning to chewing on his breakfast.

His friend flickered and turned to him slowly, furrowing his noble eyebrows. Silence fell between the two while he seemed to think something through and Connie was staring at him, almost starting to worry. He _would_ have worried if he hadn't known Jean. There was no way he'd done something that would have been unconvinient to him, he also would have never allowed anybody else to do so. Then, suddenly, his friend spoke.

"I slept with Mikasa" he said, silently but confidently. Connie almost choked on the remains of his roll. Caughing and spitting, he was desperately fighting for air. Jean's face was unmoved. A few people shot uninterested glances in their direction but returned to their own business as soon as they reassured themselves that it was nothing to be troubled about.

"What?!" were Connie's first words when the shorter one had saved himself from suffocating. "Don't tell me your fantasies have got bad recently?" Jean's lips curved into a bitter smirk. He fished in his pocket to take a cigarette and a lighter out.

"It's true" he mumbled, feeling like chuckling at his friend's terrified face. No sound left his throat, however. Just before he could have lit the smoke, Connie slapped his hand.

"Not here, they'll throw you out!" he hissed, looking around nervously. Hopefully, nobody seemed to had noticed. Jean sighed and threw the lighter back into his pocket. He then propped his chin on his hand and looked his friend in the eye with an emotionless look in his orbs.

"See?" he lifted himself a bit, turned to the side and lowered the collar of his shirt to show Connie a part of his back, from the shoulder to the above of the shoulder blade. It was decorated in a few pallid red streaks. "These are the marks of her fingernails" he explained calmly, sitting back down.

Connie's jaw moved up and down in disbelief. "Why have you done something like this to yourself?! It's sick, Jean!" he exclaimed, stirred. The smirk didn't leave Jean's mouth.

"You don't have to believe me" he sighed, standing up and stretching his back. "It would actually be better if you didn't..." Connie's eyes widened. The Jean he knew would have started an argument right away.

"Jean! What-?!" he stuttered, feeling everybody's eyes watching the scene by then. "And-! And the food?!" he yelled, but the other one had already gone through the door. Connie fell lower on his seat. He took a quick glance at Mikasa. She seemed like she hadn't moved one bit. So was that true or not?! He had enough of his problems already. Dealing with his friend's flared up mental illness wouldn't have come in handy...

**X**

_He woke up earlier than usual. Strange, it had never happened before. Well, it wasn't like he'd have complained, being up at that hour meant more time for himself in the bathroom, not being bothered by Connie rattling on the door all the time. He would have his time for thinking and, after all, he had an extremely important decision to make. A decision whether to go along with Marco's faith in himself or to succumb to the fear he still wasn't able to dispose of. He took his clothes and cleaning things and left into the dusk of the quiet dawn, leaving his friends' calm snores behind._

He was walking the same way that he had that morning. Fists clenched, eyes wandering without any purpose. All that filled his mind was her, anyway. Her fresh scent, her lean fingers caressing his jawline, that one and only quiet moan of _Jean_... He shut his eyes, frowning. Why the hell had he let her..?

_He arrived at the door to the bathroom and pushed it open. As obviously expected, the hinges swiveled with a loud squeek. What wasn't so common was the naked form of Mikasa Ackerman standing in the middle of the floor, staring at him with wide eyes from above her shoulder. And the strangest things of all? He wasn't able to make a single efford towards turning around and walking away. He was paralized, completely mesmerized by her. His eyes travelled up and down the curves of her body with comprehensive amazement. "_A goddess_" was the only word that came to his mind at the moment. Her shoulder blades lifting and falling down gracefully with her breathing, her milk-white skin without any imperfection, if not counting a few pale scars that, to him, were only an increase of her worth. She was beautiful and strong, absolutely admirable._

_And then she spoke. "Jean?!" her soft voice reached her ears, a note of nervousness making him realize the inappropriateness of the current situation. He moved hastily towards the door, mumbling apologies under his breath._

_But he looked at her face and into her eyes once again, and he froze with his hand on the knob. "Mi... Mikasa..?" was his incredibly intelligent pronouncement. He thought that he'd seen something irrecognizable in her eyes, something he'd never encountered earlier. But maybe it was just a delusion..?_

_After a few of his desperate heartbeats, she turned around hesitantly, revealing more of her body's beauty, and (he couldn't believe his eyes) made a few steps in his direction, her furrowed eyebrows resulting in a small wrinkle on her forehead. He tried to swallow but there was nothing but air in his tight throat. His breathing had long become an embarassing panting and her growing proximity wasn't making it any easier for him and his thuding heart. And yet he couldn't walk away, couldn't break the spell she'd cast upon him. His mind had gone numb and a shiver fared down his spine when she tenderly, almost hesitantly, took his rough, tired hand in hers, also weary, but soft and beautiful nevertheless._

_She closed the door lock and led him to the other side of the room, where her clothes hung next to the shower. He felt as if his legs had been made of lead, he was wondering why he hadn't stumbled yet. She let go of his hand (he'd missed her touch already) and turned to the hanger to take her long, red scarf from beneath the other materials. Her gaze returned to him and something in his gut writhed at the sight of her eyes. There was something... Something dark... Dark but so irresistably alluring... Like a strong want, a desire..._

Like lust...

_For him..? He almost snorted. There was no way Mikasa would have-_

_"Jean..." her order-like whisper almost made him forget how to breathe. Now he was awfully aware of the scant distance between them again and her voice, fuck, that sweet tone he adored so much, containing something like... A threat..?_

_Her warm, lean fingers touched the inside of his hands, withdrawing seconds later and disappearing into a faint memory of a feather-like contact with her skin. Her eyes were fastened on his and it wasn't until she looked down again that he cared to notice that she'd handed her shawl over to him. He stared at it, completely unconscious as to what he was supposed to do with that._

_"Jean..." his eyes widened and something in his groin twitched when she closed the gap between them and whispered the word into his ear. He'd heard it so many times before, but the sound of his own name had never had such an effect on him. Her breath tickled his earlobe and she dabbed his exposed biceps with her fingertips. His eyelids fell half-shut. That was too much, _she_ was too much, and he didn't even know how he still managed to stand upright. "Please..." she continued to torture his poor body and mind, brushing his neck gently, with a dose of uncertainity. Don't you _ask_, you were going to be the death of him... "Allow me to become weak..." he froze at the words._

_"Wh-what..?" he managed only to whisper, his voice muffled and husky, trying to focus his sight on her eyes and feeling his hands desperately tighten on the material he was holding. Why couldn't it be her body..?_

_"Please..." she repeated in a slightly hoarse voice, almost a pleading moan. Don't you _beg_, he didn't feel like he was worthy of that... "Please... Allow me to relax... For this one moment..." He wasn't going to protest when she pulled his undershirt over his head, ruffling his already messy hair and exposing the muscles of his chest. He noticed a shadow of admiration pass across Mikasa's face before she run her hands over the parts of his body that nobody had ever touched in such a way. He groaned quietly, pushing the last doubts out of his mind and clutching the scarf with even more force, as if it had been his lifeline. "Let me stop being strong..." Her words were left a faint breeze on his lips as her fingers explored his stomach, the muscles cramping from the sensation. "Make me feel the vulnerability I felt earlier..." He was going to explode any moment, he almost couldn't hold it in any longer. "_Be in charge..._" that noiseless, tense whisper was what made him snap._

_If she hadn't really wanted that, it would have been her fault for saying the words._

_"Enough" he hissed in a low, angry tone, pushing her roughly into the wall. She gasped at the feeling of the cool surface making contact with her back, but the sound hitched in her throat when he grabbed her hand and made her face the wall, his body pressing hard and his hands taking her sight away with the help of her own scarf. "How's that..?" he growled into her ear, smirking bitterly._

_So that was it. He was going to make love to Mikasa. Something in his heart stung at the thought. Right. How could it be called _making love_ if the feelings were going to be onesided forever..?_

_Eren..._

_He felt rage start to bubble up in his stomach. He chuckled into her ear, burying his nose in the cascade of her hair and inhaling her intoxicating smell._

_Jeager was all she would ever care about, right? As much as he hated to admit that and as much as he tried hard to change that grim fate, she was never going to consider _himself_ important, he felt that so well it hurt. He bared his teeth and frowned from pain and fury, everything having it's beginning in the girl (a woman..?) pushed into the wall in front of him._

_"Jean..?" she asked, a quiet uncertainity heard in her voice, as he'd stopped making any movements. He snorted silently._

_No, he wasn't going to kiss her gently, hold her in his arms to keep her warm or brush hair out of her eyes. Even if he'd had such thoughts since he'd met her on that fateful day a few years earlier..._

_No. That morning, he had changed his plans... He was going to _fuck_ her, violently and roughly. He was going to use her, like she would use his heart until the day he died. He was going to make her wheeze out his name, no matter if in bliss or in suffering. After all, justice had to be done, right..?_

_He pushed away the hair from her nape and kissed it softly, his lips tingling at the touch. That would be, he decided, the only sign of affection he'd give to her. His hands found their way to her stomach and continued to go farther - one slowly aiming for her breast and the other travelling down, to the susceptible spot between her legs. Just before that morning, he wouldn't even have _thought_ about what was happening being true and not a dream but then, everything seemed to just fall in place on it's own. It was as if he'd _been born_ to explore her tender flesh. Too bad she'd never have acknowledged that. "Let the fun begin then" he murmured, feeling a shiver travel down her body in response._

After those words, everything had changed into a blissful blend in his memory. He'd turned off, let his instincts rule. He hadn't thought about the actions, he'd just gone by what he felt would have been the right thing to do then. What he remembered were cutaways, intense but in a blur.

_He remembered the feeling of her hardened nipple under his fingers when he was teasing it, pawing and nipping hard. Her only response were a few muffled moans. She must have bitten herself not to make noise. He smirked grimly. Oh, he would make her not be able to hold back..._

_Her jerky hisses when his other hand rubbed circles on her clit, pushing hard to the point of nearly causing pain. "You like it rough then, huh..?" his low-pitched whisper reached the inside of her ear while he was licking on it's shell. "Never would have thought..." he pushed even harder, making a quiet whine fall from her lips. He chuckled maliciously. That was right, girl..._

_How he bit her shoulder and the gasp it caused to be let out by her, followed by a pleased murmur. The taste of her blood and her cracked breathing when he was lipping her clean. "Mikasa..." he growled, only to feel her name on his tongue. He felt her fingers grab his hand and lead it further, pleading for him to continue..._

_Her wetness and her body trembling when he pumped heavily. In, out, in and out, at a steady pace. Her walls clasped on his fingers and her chest moved up and down in desperate attempts to breathe. Fuck, how he wanted her, her body and her mind, _her whole_..._

_Her hips jerking backwards in the rhythm he made her follow. Right then _he_ was the leader, _he_ was the one giving orders. Disobey and you won't feel the pleasure any longer. He was itching to stop, to make her heart fall like she was doing with his... But, on the other hand, he was becoming addicted to that domination..._

_Her parted lips and her tongue encircling his fingers when he let her taste herself. He licked off what had dropped from her mouth to her chin, taking one of few glances at her face. Her cheeks were erubescent and her lips were gasping for air. His heart ached when he broke his own rule and kissed the corner of her mouth gently..._

_The pants and silent moans of her climax, when her pelvis squirmed to feel more of him, just for a few more seconds. His fingers moving slightly inside of her to extend the moment of her pleasure. The satisfaction of making the woman he adored come and the pain in his heart at the feeling that she was never going to be truly _his_..._

_How she would have fallen to her knees if it hadn't been for his firm hold. He was pressing her to the wall and felt her breathing getting steady with every cell of his body. "What do I do with you know..?" he murmured and she froze. "Were you a good girl..?" he asked, his fingers sneaking on her abdomen. She gulped uncertainly and he chuckled at the sound..._

_When he lowered his pants to free his aroused self, made her face himself and lifted her to take her under the shower. Her fingers lost in his hair and her centre pressing into his in an impatient anticipation. "Now, we'll see what we can do..." he mumbled, making the fault of removing her scarf and looking straight into her half-lidded eyes..._

_Hot water falling on his head when he was nibbling on her mouth and imprisoning her agile tongue with his own's pressure. Her hands trying to get to his member and sending countless raptures to the inside of his body. Freeing her was a mistake, a huge mistake. How could he be in charge any longer if she was so overpowering..?_

_The feeling of his member mocking her at her enterance and her desperate tries to get him to sink into her, which he made impossible. He wasn't going to give in, to forget just how much ache she made him feel. He could never reach her, why not make her feel the same..?_

_The last time she said his name, a wheezy, astonishing moan of _Jean..?_ when he finally let her feel him inside of her, his own breath hitching at the sensation. He smiled sadly, looking into her eyes clouded with delight. He would never be as close to her as in that one and only moment..._

_His jaw clenched tight and his eyes ogling her body and face to remember that time when he was pushing her haunches up and down, her fingernails cutting into his shoulders, the sound of her back being rubbed against the rough wall. The bittersweet feeling of pleasure mixed with the thought of it being over soon enough..._

_And the final moment of release, when a few low whines and growls escaped him and his head fell on her shoulder, his mind barely preventing his body from going completely limp. He'd never felt something so intense before and, damn the tough guy reputation he hopefully had, he found himself mumbling her name like a mantra. She was just holding still, pressed into his chest and absorbing his warmth, her eyes shut, trying to commit the delight in it's fullest to her memory. He felt an urge to kiss her again, before she disposed of himself as if he were just useless garbage, before it was too late. But then a wave of bile washed over him. She would regret that morning. No matter how much pleasure he gave her, she'd never let him inside. Distance, distance. Don't let anybody else enter the Ackerman-Jeager wonderland. He smirked, his face grimacing with pain. "Thank you" he muttered into her ear anyway, annoyed with the sudden tightness in his throat._

_To his surprise, after a moment of silence disturbed only by their steadying breaths and the falling water, she shook her head. "No" his eyes widened at the quiet word. "It's me who should thank you" He thought he had heard something wrong. So did what had happened actually _have_ any larger worth to her..? A sudden realization hit him and a bitter smirk returned to his face._

_Damn her _propriety_._

_He got out of her and lowered her to the ground, already missing their closeness that was never going to be repeated. He made sure she stood securely (as if she even needed that) and took a step back, averting his eyes. "Guess I'll be going then" he mumbled, pulling his pants up and fighting with himself not to look at her once again. She didn't say anything, didn't try to stop him._

_As he thought._

_He got out of the shower and walked slowly to where his clothes were scattered on the floor. He didn't even remember when he had let go of them._

_He took his shirt, trying to think about something else,_ anything_ else, but all he could hear were the sounds of the water falling down her body. His skin itched in the places she'd last touched. He wanted to be furious, to shout and growl and destroy._

_But he stayed calm._

_He wasn't happy either, oh no. What he felt was most similar to sore yearning only... He wasn't sad, really._

_He was impassive. Like nothing mattered in that world anymore. As if he could have gone against a Titan, head first, and he wouldn't even have worried about the possibility of himself dying._

_His hand touched the stuffed pocket of his jacket. He frowned and examined it's content. Ah, a cigarette and a lighter. It wasn't that he was addicted (like Connie grumbled), he just did that from time to time, to drop the steam of his stressful life. He took the smoke out and lit it. Taking the first deep intake, he glanced at Mikasa's figure under the shower one last time._

_Farewell, baby..._

_It wasn't like she cared, anyway._

**X X X**

The Recon Corps. There was no other way. He couldn't let Marco's trust die in vain, he couldn't disappoint him. No matter how paralizing the fear of standing face to face with a Titan once again was. No matter that he had to stay with Eren _and_ Mikasa that way.

They'd sent the new recruits to the squad's base inside Wall Rose. Him and his friends were walking inside of an old castle's area, everybody equally curious as scared. Mikasa hadn't payed any attention to him since _that_ morning. He should have expected that. She wanted to _forget_, he should have been doing the same. Only no amount of determination allowed him to do so.

She walked by Armin's side and none of the two seemed to notice _him_ that Jean had noticed a while earlier. No wonder, Marco had said he was a good observer, after all.

"Hey, Mikasa! Armin!" Oh? So Eren had finally decided to reveal his presence, huh? Everybody halted in their tracks, surprised by the arrival of the long-lost companion. Mikasa immediately turned on her heel, like nothing had ever mattered to her in that world, only the Jaeger kid. But wasn't that true, really? Her eyes shone with abundance of feelings - something that wasn't the most familiar part of the soldier - _feelings for Eren_. He shouldn't have been as jealous as he was...

"Eren..." Tch. So much relief in her voice... She grabbed Eren's hand in her own and held it close. The hand that had dragged him behind herself in that damn bathroom... "Did they do something to you?" he'd never heard so much concern in her voice as when it came to Eren. Always Eren and nobody else. Seemed that any of his subconsciousness' naive wishes for her to actually start _noticing_ him were going to stay his personal fairy tale ever after. In that story, he could only be the rejected step-brother, at best.

Everybody went to greet Eren. Should he have gone too..? He didn't fancy that, actually... Maybe if he went past them they wouldn't even notice? After all, they were all focused on Jaeger in that moment. But should he have been as much of a drama-king when he was trying to show_ her_ that _that_ didn't matter to him either-? "So only Annie, Jean and Marco joined the Military Police?" he froze at Eren's words. _Marco?_ He didn't even know? Before he even knew what his body was doing, Jean had already stood in front of Eren, everybody's attention turned to himself. Even_ her_. He tried to ignore those grey eyes drilling into his skull. Show her how strong you were. Show her that you didn't care about what had happened, even if it wasn't true... Eren turned to him, his eyes wide. "No way... You're here too?" the shorter one mumbled in disbelief.

Why was he so surprised? Ah. After all, it was him who he'd fought against over the senselessness of fighting with your life on line without chances to win. But he had changed his resolve and he was going to stand by that. He wasn't going to fail the faith of the one that had believed in him. "Marco's dead" Jean stated coldly.

Eren was shocked, genuinely flurried. Mikasa looked between the two of them watchfully, ready to break his neck if he said anything bad about Jaeger. But she didn't matter to him, not in that moment. Her eyes finally on himself weren't of a joy. Right then it was only him, Eren and _Marco_.

"What was that?" Eren rasped out in disbelief. "Did you say Marco's dead?" he seemed to be shaken. No wonder. Nobody had ever expected Marco to die. _Anybody_ else had been believed to be more likely to perish than the kind friend of everybody.

"Seems not everyone gets a dramatic death" Jean answered snappishly, remembering the fuss that Eren's abortive passing away had caused and the even greater disarray that was the result of him coming back to life. "I don't even know how he died" he tried not to allow the note of guilt creep into his voice. He felt blameworthy for not beeing there for Marco, for not even being aware of what exactly had happened. "He died without anyone knowing, or anyone seeing" he finished more quietly than the other parts of his speech had been told. There was silence among the group, a grotesque contrast to the warm rays of the setting sun.

"Marco..." Eren whispered in reverie. One could accuse him of many things, but not caring about his companions was certainly _not _one of them. That was one of the things Jean actually found positive about him. Everybody's mood had dropped, the soldiers remembering their fallen companions.

Unconsciously, he took a quick glance at Mikasa. Of course she'd have been looking at Eren. Her sight was plastered on him as if she feared something bad could happen if she didn't keep an eye on Jaeger. After a moment, however, she noticed he'd been staring and discreetly returned the look. He immediately lowered his eyes, cursing himself for such a weakness a second later. You were supposed to keep an unmoved facquade, remember?! Just then, two soldiers came, one of them holding a pile of material. "Hey, new kids, get over here!" the other one, with a white headscarf, shouted to the new recruits. "Your uniforms are here!" he added with a grin.

That was it. The beginning of a new, dangerous road. Starting then, their chances of staying alive for a long time were almost equal to none. He walked with the others, not looking at Mikasa anymore.

**X**

"Are you really..." Eren muttered in disbelief. He, Mikasa and Jean were standing in one of the castle's basement chambers and the others had occupied some wooden boxes nearby. All of them were wearing Recon Corps' cloaks with the _Wings of Freedom_ on their backs. Although nothing had really changed, everybody felt somewhat different, like their new outfits had given them the self-confidence and strength they hadn't known by then.

"Yes, we'll also be participating in the mission" Mikasa answered. She acted like always in Eren's presence, after a longer observation, he was certain of that... _Really?_ He didn't think what he'd heard _wasn't_ true, so why had nothing changed in her behaviour? One way or another, he had to check that. It wasn't about Mikasa, however, it was about himself and the others. About their so-called _safety_ (as if anything like that even _existed_ in that ghastly world...).

"Hey, Eren" he called to the guy, everybody's sight focusing on himself once again. He took a quick unintentional glance at Mikasa before returning his whole attention to Jaeger. "I heard that when you turned into a Titan, you tried to kill Mikasa. What does that mean?" he asked frigidly, his eyes piercing Eren's. The said guy seemed shocked by the question and... Was that guilt in his eyes..?

He was probably supposed to know that Mikasa would have interrupted. "No. Eren was trying to hit a fly..." she blurted out hurriedly. Always trying to protect him, huh? Who are you, his mother..? (Or his _wife_..?)

"I wasn't asking you" Jean disrupted her defensive speech, making her and Eren gasp noiselessly in surprise. Her furrowed eyebrows and icy-stare should have probably worried him more than they had... But then he had a problem more important than his hopeless crush feeling offended. A part of himself actually found itself pretty... _Satisfied_... Eye for an eye, huh? "Mikasa, it looks like the wound on your cheek is pretty bad" he added, pointing at his cheek in the place she had it on her face. As expected, she tried to hide the cut with her hair. "When did you get that?" he finished, not taking his eyes off Mikasa's. He wasn't going to back down, even under her resentful glare. Eren lowered his head and Jean looked at him again.

"I've heard it's true" he mumbled, not returning the look. At least_ Eren_ had some decency not to sweep it under the rug. Mikasa turned to him, her eyes widened. Only Jeager could exctract such emotions out of her... The emotions so strong that they disturbed her legendary reserve, even. The emotions he hadn't seen nay when he had been showing her how he felt in that fucking bathroom, when he had been handing his damn heart over to her (he had to admit it had happened even if he had been going to make it seem like _just sex_)! Too bad she didn't seem to care enough to had noticed that... "When I became a Titan, I tried to kill Mikasa" Eren said, quietly but with confidence.

Jean took a step in his direction, feeling agitation flare up in his veins. "If you heard, then you don't remember it, right? In other words, you had no idea you had this Titan power, and you don't have the means to control it" he snapped.

"Yes, that's right" Eren answered. Jean sighed and turned to the others watching the scene in tense anticipation.

"Did you hear that? This is the situation. Humanity and our lives depend on him" he said, his sight travelling from Connie to Reiner to Krista. Everybody seemed nervous, scared eyes plastered on himself. "We'll probably die just like Marco, without Eren even realizing it" he added bitterly.

Once again, he was interrupted by Mikasa's vexed voice. "Jean, what's the point in asking Eren these questions now?" His heart skipped a bit when he heard her say his name, but, apart from a momentary wince, no reaction was seen from him. He was proud of himself for staying cool _that_ time. Better late then never, right?

"Listen, Mikasa" he said quietly, turning around to face her, Eren and Armin. The boys were looking at him too, but that confrontation was only between him and her. He fastened his eyes on her beautiful grey orbs gleaming in annoyment. "Not everyone's like you, willing to die for Eren's sake with nothing in return..." he told her, trying not to sound _too_ outraged. Although he couldn't possibly deny it felt _so damn good_ to finally point out that injustice aloud. Her eyebrows furrowed and her lips tightened. "We should know what we're dying for" he added, breaking their stares' fight and turning to the side. "Otherwise, we will hesitate when the time comes. We want something in return from him. So let me see what he has to offer. And whether it's worth my life" he continued, feeling the seriousness of the situation thicken the air of the dungeon.

They all needed that confirmation. They all _wanted_ to fight but knew all to well how paralyzing the fear against Titans could get. That was why they needed a foothold. They needed Eren to be their hope and the one and only reason not to stop struggling, no matter how difficult and terrifying it became. But it didn't work like with Mikasa, it wasn't that easy. They couldn't just put themselves forward without any proof, any assurance.

Jean clenched his teeth and suddenly, driven by an impulse, his hands went to tighten on Eren's shoulders. "So, Eren... I'm really counting on you" he threw out, his voice trembling from the mass of emotions inside of him. Fear, rejection, pride, sadness, anger, all mixed in a knot lingering in his chest. A knot he wanted Jaeger to loosen, even if it was going to be just a little bit.

"Right" was the only answer heard.

But it was enough. They would risk their lives for that one word, because it held everything they wanted him to ensure them. That maybe he wasn't certain of his success himself, but he was going to _try_.

That was enough.

And about Mikasa..?

He decided to try not to think about her, act as if nothing had ever come into being between them. That way, he wouldn't think it all through over and over again, or think about what could have been if... If _what_, he wondered. If she had been different? If Eren hadn't been there? If_ himself_ hadn't been the way he was, if he'd crawled and begged?

No, Jean would live for himself, not for the girl he'd fallen for. He'd do it the way he'd been going to from the very beginning.

He would work hard for humanity, not looking up to her but going down his own path. If she'd ever noticed his effort, he'd have been glad, but it wasn't going to be his goal, or the only thing giving him joy. That wouldn't have been his style, would it?

He couldn't say it _didn't_ hurt, somewhere deep inside of his heart. He would always shiver because of the cold of her indifference and would never fully accept it, the haughty man he was... So maybe..?

No, Jean. You were supposed to _stop_ doing that! Throw Mikasa out of your head, for good!

Those thoughts accompanied him when they were going back into the chilly twilight, his hands fisted and a clear resolve forming in his mind.

If only he'd turned around for a couple of seconds, he would have been able to see Mikasa looking at his back with sorrowful eyes...

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**ZJeM, 03-13.03.14**

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**From author:**

TEE HEE! I couldn't stop myself from actually giving Mikasa feelings for Jean (but _what _feelings, huh..?). ;)

Right. Mikasa _and _Jean are OOC. I haven't thought of a way to hook up their canon selves yet. ;p (Other than killing Eren but that I wouldn't like.)

Haha, it was a funny thing, writing Jean's thoughts into episode 16. I got carried by the mood and got extremely angry at Mikasa for being so worried about Eren and not saying a word to Jean about what had happened. And then I had to remind myself that they hadn't really slept with each other. XD

Ah, and smoking Jean was the result of MxMSupporter's drawing that had actually made me write this to start with (it's here, my curious friends ;):  art / SnK - Jeanmika - 437763553?q = gallery % 3AMxMSupporter&qo=0 [delete the spaces]).

THANKS FOR READING!


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